Page 2 of This Much Is True
“Maybe I should just go through with it,” I say, a chill prickling my skin. “The ramifications of this—”
“It’s ten years from now, and you’re on a beach.”
“Can we talk about vacations later?”
“And you look to your left, and there’s Tom,” she says. “How do you feel?”
Sick.
Uneasiness stirs in my stomach. Instead of imagining Tom gazing adoringly back at me, I instantly notice the angry lines around his eyes. His voice sweeps through my head.
“There are calories in those drinks, you know.”
“We’re going to have to talk about you easing up on the music thing when I start filming my next project in the winter.”
“Can’t you choose more conservative costumes? You’re a grown woman, for fuck’s sake. I don’t want my wife out there looking like a whore.”
I grapple with how to phrase that, but Stephanie saves me the trouble.
“Now imagine that you look to the left, and he’s gone,” she says. “How do you feel now?”
Peaceful.
Relief eases the tension in my shoulders and quells the knot in my stomach. I don’t try to answer her this time; it’s unnecessary.
“The ramifications of going back in that church and marrying Tom are far worse than the inconvenience it will cause everyone else if you don’t,” she says. “I’ll support you either way. But your father was just in here looking for you, and while I can stall him for a little bit, you need to decide.”
A shiver runs the length of my spine. A flush stings my cheeks. My heart somehow lodges in my throat, and each beat reminds me of the seconds ticking by.
I can’t do it. I can’t return to that church and walk out as Mrs. Tom Waverly. The thought makes me want to hurl.
“The media will have a heyday with this,” I say, my back pressed against the shed. “I can see the headlines already.”
“Ignore all of that. You’re going to wake up married or not. What’s it going to be?”
My breath quickens. “I’m not.”
“You’re sure.”
“Yes.”
A door closes in the background. “Okay, this is the plan.”
A smile tugs at my lips.
“I could borrow a car and pick you up, but someone has to be here to head off your parents and Tom until you’ve made your exit,” she says. “The security team is our best bet, I think. They’re under an NDA, and you hired them, right? Not Tom?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Okay. Let me find one of them and get them to pick you up. You stay put. I’m going to bide you some time with your father. Who should I contact on your team?”
“My agent. Anjelica Grace at Mason Music,” I say. “Tell her I’ll call her as soon as I can.”
“I’m on it. Do you need me to do anything else?”
I take a long breath. “Don’t be the one to tell Tom. Let someone else do it.”
“Got it. Now, hold tight. I’ll have a car there as fast as I can.”
